Carrington
by IShouldBeHome
Summary: Sam and Mercedes move to a small town in New England named Carrington to settle down. As soon as they get moved in, Mercedes starts acting differently, and Sam can't figure out what's happened to her. AU, inspired by the Stepford Wives.
1. Chapter 1

Something was off. Mercedes was different, and Sam wasn't sure how to feel about it. Her hair was always perfectly curled, not a stray hair to be found. Her loud, erratic, infectious laugh had turned into a small, subdued giggle. She used to sleep in, but now she would be bathed, fresh faced, clothed to a T in a dress (always a dress), and made-up before 6am. He'd asked her why she never wore jeans anymore, and she smiled a smile he didn't recognize before responding with "Because that's not how a lady dresses, sweetheart." Sweetheart? Sure, he loved it when she wore dresses; they displayed her curves from top to bottom, and not to mention easy access. But he missed being able to watch the natural sway of her hips in a nice pair of pants that shaped perfectly to her ample backside.

Then there was her cooking. She was always a decent cook, but if Sam had ever fixed his lips to ask her to spend hours on three meals a day (including a multiple course dinner), plus snacks, she would have laughed and told him to go to hell. Now, that's exactly what she did, and there were always left overs. And everything was always _perfect_. That seemed to be a common theme in their life recently: perfection. Everything had to be neat, clean, and happy. All of a sudden, kitchen sex was forbidden. The Mercedes he knew would have gladly let him take her on the counter and simply taken a disinfectant wipe to the surface afterward. One time, she was watching a movie with him and was okay when he began trailing kisses down her neck, but froze when his fingers began to travel south of the equator, telling him that it was "entirely inappropriate" (this was the _same girl_ who let him finger her in a Tilt-A-Whirl). She then shut off the television and led him upstairs, to where she promptly removed her clothes, folded them, set them aside, and laid down on the bed. Usually, seeing his lingerie-clad wife laying on the bed waiting for him would have excited him, but this was strange.

Carrington was his idea. She had her Grammy – several, actually – and he had his children's books. They'd been married for 6 years now, and already had enough to retire. Of course he didn't want to retire yet; he had tons of ideas, and she seemed to get more talented every year. He just figured they needed to settle down for a while. They agreed that they wanted kids, and after looking at a brochure, Carrington seemed like the perfect place for that kind of thing. It was a small town in New England, populated by couples with kids, couples with kids on the way, and old couples; really family oriented. Mercedes was immediately side-eying the lack of black people, but she was fine when they realized how nice everyone was. The women confused him though. They were always smiling and waiting on their husbands hand and foot. During the day, they would meet at some "Women's Club" and do God knows what. He finally got Mercedes to go, so they could laugh about the ridiculous things the women said or did, and she came back like…this.

"It's for the best, man," Puck said, putting his feet up on his coffee table. Sam met Noah "Puck" Puckerman when he went to local gym to see what it was like. They ended up playing one on one for a couple hours, and though Puck was a little different, he was glad to have made a friend in Carrington.

"But you don't question the fact that your wife is suddenly acting…weird?" Sam sat next to him on the couch, resting his elbows on his knees with his eyebrows furrowed. He'd come to see Puck to try and get some insight into what was going on, and was met at the door by his wife, Quinn. Her long blonde curls stayed in place, even as she tilted her head and held out her arm to let him in, her smile almost blinding him. Since he'd sat down with Puck, she disappeared. "Probably getting started on the Turkey for dinner." Puck said, explaining it away.

"Who cares? All I know is since we moved here I haven't heard a thing about the damn fashion industry. If I never have to fly to Milan and sit through her runway shows again, it'll be too soon. Now she just pays attention to me. It's a nice change."

Sam sat back and hung his head over the back of the couch. He was beginning to think Puck wouldn't be much help. But he had to vent to someone.

"But…Mercedes is not…herself, you know?" Sam said, turning his head to look at his squirrel-headed friend.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, like…the sex." Sam's voice lowered at the last two words. He was cautious, not sure if they were close enough to discuss it, or what he was like about that kind of talk. But when Puck moved his hand in a 'continue' motion, Sam nodded and went on. "It's fantastic, yeah. But she like, lets me do everything. I'm always in control now." Puck raised an eyebrow.

"And what the hell is wrong with that? If I even mentioned doggy-style around Quinn two years ago, she'd cut my dick off. Now, it's awesome. She doesn't even question me." Puck snapped his fingers, and like magic, Quinn emerged from their kitchen, presenting him with a beer. Puck looked at Sam after taking a sip and asked, "Want anything?"

He just shook his head, staring at Quinn. He was more than a little freaked out, even after she walked away. He shook his head again and went on.

"I didn't marry a girl like that. We were always give and take in the bedroom. I told her what I wanted, and she told me what she wanted."

"Why does it matter if she only does what you want though? It's good."

"Yeah, okay, it is. But I liked it when she was in control sometimes. There's just something about making your girl feel good. The fact that I could turn her on turned me on," Sam confessed, a smirk pulling at his lips at the sudden memory of her screaming his name and him kissing up her body from his previous position between her legs.

"I'm beginning to think you have a vagina." He snapped out of it and looked at Puck before rolling his eyes.

"What so, to be a guy, I have to be selfish?"

"Yeah! I know I am, but I own that shit," Puck said, smiling. "But honestly, what are you complaining about? Do you know how many guys would sell their soul for a chick that washes your clothes, makes you fancy meals, takes care of the baby, gives you the power in the bedroom, looks hot _all the time_, and never bitches about anything?"

Sam had to admit; when things were laid out like that, it did sound ideal. But it wasn't him, and it wasn't his wife. When they got married, he actually looked forward to the idea of having a kid or two, and taking turns changing diapers and getting up in the middle of the night to stop the crying. He looked forward to cooking for _her _sometimes, or even cooking together. He didn't want a perfect wife, he wanted _his_ wife. His Mercedes would stay up all night watching the Sci-Fi channel with him, laughing hysterically at the obvious scientific inaccuracies and bad acting. She would wake up late in the morning, only to go to the bathroom and get back in bed with him to sleep, make love, or lie down and talk about anything and everything. His Mercedes didn't care if he saw her without make-up, because he'd long since made it known that he thought she was gorgeous at all times. His wife refused to let people step all over her, not even him. Above all, his Mercedes didn't change for anyone. That is what baffled him most about all that was happening. She meets the women of this town and makes a total 180?

Who were these people and what did they do to his woman?


	2. Chapter 2

**Hi! So, believe it or not, I actually did mean to mark this complete because the idea just came to me, and I had no idea where to go with it. But because of the feedback/alerts, I decided to just continue it and see what happens! I don't have much to say about the chapter except I hope you enjoy it. I haven't written fanfiction for at least 5 years, so I'm rusty. Thanks again for the support! Also, if it wasn't clear, in this interpretation of the story, the men have no say in the "transformation" of their wives, so to speak. _Italics_ = Flashbacks. Oh, and I apologize for technical mistakes.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Glee or the Stepford Wives.**

* * *

><p>"What are you doing?"<p>

Sam paused in the middle of putting on his jacket and stared at Mercedes, who already had the front door partially open, purse in hand.

"Putting on my jacket, cause you said we needed groceries…" he answered, confused. She gave him a blank stare for several seconds, before giving him the light, fake giggle he'd grown to detest.

"You don't need to go with me, silly. Stay here and relax!"

"But we always go shopping together," he said, dropping his shoulders like a disappointed kid. Her artificial smile stayed in place and she shook her head at him.

"Oh, you." With that, she was gone.

Sam let out a sigh and after standing in the foyer for about a minute; he walked into the living room and sat on the couch. He wasn't sure what he was expecting when it came to her new behavior. Maybe it would wear off? Maybe she'd wake up one morning and snap out of it? But nothing was changing, and he was beginning to get depressed.

"_So, I'm not a psychic, but I'm pretty sure we won't need six boxes of Trix," Mercedes said, putting them back on the shelf not five seconds after Sam had deposited them into the cart._

"_Mercy! We need extra for emergencies!" he said, whining and jumping up and down. She stared at him with a shocked expression, mouth open and eyes wide._

"_Sam! Are you five?" He stilled and gave her a serious look._

"_Five and a half," he countered, folding his arms. She laughed and shook her head before pushing the cart further down the aisle._

_He caught up to her, wrapped his long arms around her waist from behind, and rested his head on her shoulder. He tried to move his legs at the same time as her when she kept moving so he could stay in that position and the result was them awkwardly bounding down the aisle with him accidentally stepping on her heels._

_She stopped walking and turned her head to look up at him._

"_Do you mind?" she said, raising an eyebrow. He squeezed tighter. "Sam…"_

_Before she could express her annoyance, he covered her lips with his own in a kiss, smiling into it until the corners of her own mouth lifted as well. He pulled away and kissed her cheek, then jaw, then upper neck, then…_

_Someone loudly cleared their throat, causing Sam to look up and lock eyes with a woman in her mid-40's with an irritated look on her face, gripping a shopping cart that held a small child staring at them and hugging a box of Trix._

_Mercedes dipped her head due to intense blushing and muttered a 'Sorry' before moving on down the aisle. Sam grinned sheepishly at the woman and ruffled her child's hair._

"_Nice choice," he said, pointing to the Trix box and skipping after Mercedes. The woman huffed and continued in the opposite direction, ignoring her son's protests for more cereal._

* * *

><p>"Why do I feel like I just stepped out of a time machine and into the 1950's? And not the glamorous, <em>Gentlemen Prefer Blondes, Moulin Rouge<em> 50's, the woman-belong-in-the-kitchen and-on-their-knees, anti-diversity 50's," Kurt said, folding his arms and scanning the 'Carrington Annual Spring Picnic' and with a raised, judgmental eyebrow.

"Kurt…come on. I think it's charming," Blaine said, sipping on his lemonade.

Kurt and Blaine were newly-weds and had been moved into Carrington for only a few hours now. Blaine had convinced his husband to come to the picnic to try and meet some of their neighbors.

"And why is everyone smiling? How freaky is that?" Kurt added, making his way over to the buffet set up under a large tray. Blaine rolled his eyes and followed.

"Maybe it's because people are happy?"

"And once again, I'm overdressed." Blaine chuckled and gave Kurt a look that said 'When are you not?'

Sam was feeling underdressed and out of place, but he didn't have an excuse to leave the picnic, as Mercedes was speaking to the other wives about things he was sure he wouldn't care about. He walked over to the buffet and grabbed a bunch of crackers, hoping to pass the time by stuffing his face.

Kurt and Blaine noticed the blond clad in a Green Lantern t-shirt, jeans ripped at the knees, and dirty converse because like them (especially Kurt), he stuck out like a sore thumb.

"Well hell there," Kurt said, walking up closer to Sam, followed by his husband, who shot him a wave. Sam paused and turned red, because at the moment, he'd been stuffing about six crackers into his mouth at once. He stuck his large hand out for Kurt and Blaine to shake, and once he swallowed, he spoke.

"Hi. Sorry about that," he said, wiping his mouth with a napkin. Kurt just laughed it off.

"I can see you're enjoying yourself as much as we are."

Sam laughed and shook his head.

"I've been ready to go home for a while now. Is it that obvious?" Kurt nodded, and Blaine gave a sympathetic smile.

"I also noticed you seem to be the only male here without an affinity for khakis, polos, and socks in sandals," the brunet said, earning another laugh from Sam. "I'm Kurt, and this is Blaine, my husband. We literally just moved here."

"Oh. Well uh, welcome to Carrington. My wife and I have been here for about a month now," Sam said, smiling.

"Which one's your wife?" Blaine asked. Sam motioned to Mercedes, who was several feet away, enthralled in a conversation with another woman about casserole.

"She's fabulous. You have wonderful taste in women," Kurt praised.

"Isn't that…wait. You're Sam Evans!" Blaine exclaimed suddenly. Sam grinned and nodded.

"Guilty." Kurt's eyes widened and he started flailing his hands around excitedly.

"How did I not realize that was Mercedes Jones! I have to meet her!" Kurt inwardly cursed himself for not recognizing Sam, as he spent a large portion of his nights on celebrity gossip sites. Sam was always in at least half of the paparazzi shots with Mercedes, holding her hand on the sidewalk, getting into a town car, or caught in an embrace.

Kurt was already making his way across the park to speak to her, and Sam was left at the buffet table with Blaine.

"So why'd you guys leave the city?" Blaine asked, still trying to make conversation.

"We were ready to settle down. We want to have some kids. And it's nice to get away from all the paparazzi and loud city folk, you know?" Sam said, nibbling on a cracker. Blaine nodded in understanding.

"Totally. By the way, I'm actually a big fan. I secretly read your books. I slip a paper bag over them in public," he mentioned, earning a laugh from Sam at the visual of the grown man sneaking around with books about kid superheroes.

"Kurt and I want to have kids soon too, and I plan to read them to her. They're awesome," he added.

"Thanks! I'm glad you like them so much. Mercy reads them too, so you're not alone," Sam replied, a grin still in place. He looked at the group of ladies straight ahead, and realized they were leading Kurt off toward the mansion in which the Women's Club met every week.

"Where are they going?" Blaine asked, raising an eyebrow.

"I think he just became an honorary housewife," Sam said, causing Blaine to chuckle.

Sam was glad to hear Blaine found that amusing, because that way he knew the poor guy had missed the worry in his tone. Anything having to do with the Women's Club gave him an awful feeling at the pit of his stomach.

* * *

><p>"Would you like a foot massage?" Mercedes asked later on after a couple hours of sitting in silence their family room while the Sci-Fi channel was on. He would laugh at certain things, and she would look at the movie with a blank stare the whole time.<p>

"No thanks," he said, instinctively taking his feet off of the coffee table.

"I'll get started on dinner then," she said cheerfully, before getting up and disappearing into the kitchen.

Sam let out a sigh, and threw his head back. He knew he had to do something soon, because he could not spend the rest of his life with this Mercedes…clone.

Suddenly, he realized it was like he was in a sci-fi movie. He had to do _something_.

"Jimmy Stewart would not sit here and do nothing!" he said aloud, cutting off the television and standing. He went into the kitchen, where Mercedes was seasoning a roast.

"Yes, dear?" she said, looking up.

"Who are you and what have you done with my wife?" he demanded, resting his hand on the counter across from her.

"I'm sorry?" she was still smiling. "Samuel, stop being silly."

"Stop talking to me like that! In that…condescending…robot voice!" He was getting more frustrated by the second, especially because her expression was unchanging.

"How would you like me to speak to you?" she asked sweetly.

"Like Mercedes! I'm going crazy trying to figure out who you are, because you're not my wife. I don't know who you are." He looked at the dinner she was preparing. "You don't even know how to make a roast! What happened to you? What happened to your smile? Your real smile: the smile that would translate throughout your whole face and make your eyes sparkle and your skin glow? And your laugh? Not this fake ass giggle you have now that I swear if I hear again, I'll shove my finger in the wall socket. I mean the laugh that used to pull me out of any funk I was in and remind me how happy I was to have you? The laugh that made being away from you for that short time in Kentucky during high school almost bearable. I could just call you and hear it and feel…complete."

His eyes were pleading, but she still had this blank look on her face that made him want to jump off of a cliff.

"It's like you don't feel anything anymore," he said, the volume of his voice returning to normal. He went around the counter and stood behind her, placing his hand on her side and running it up to the spot below her left breast. She didn't even make a sound.

"You used to shiver whenever I touched you there. Or here…" he said, lowering his mouth to the spot behind her earlobe. That spot never failed to elicit a moan from Mercedes and would usually make her wet in an instant. The woman before him once again, didn't budge.

She turned around and looked at him.

"Are you done spouting silly nonsense?" she asked, pinching his cheek. His mouth dropped a little and he shook his head. He needed to get some kind of reaction out of her to convince himself that she was still at least human. After staring at her for several seconds, he pulled her flush against him and kissed her as passionately as he could in that moment. She kissed back, but there was nothing in it; no passion, no need, nothing meaningful at all. It was empty. He pulled away, looking into her now lifeless eyes and sighed.

"Yeah. I'm done," he said, walking out of the kitchen trying to ignore the burning sensation behind his eyes.


	3. Chapter 3

**This update took a little longer than usual, but here it is! I just needed a little sleep and a lot of food. I hope you enjoy it. In this chapter, we meet some more Carrington residents, and get a little closer to figuring out what's going on with the ladies of this town.**

* * *

><p>"What…Kurt, what in God's name are you wearing?"<p>

Kurt had returned home that afternoon in a dress shirt, khakis and brown loafers. His hair had lost several inches and now resembled the hairstyle he sported early on in his sophomore year of high school.

"Blaine honey, don't take the Lord's name in vain," he said, rubbing his husband's shoulder and walking past him. Blaine shook his head in a silly attempt to wake himself up and followed Kurt into the kitchen.

"You're an atheist," he said, folding his arms and watching the transformed man pull out a phone book and set it on the counter. Kurt chuckled.

"I was lost. I know now that if I work hard to earn God's approval, I can still make it to heaven even though I'm gay."

"Even though?" Blaine asked, repeating the words, though he was sure he heard correctly.

"Yes, dear. Ah! Here we are," Kurt said, pointing to a number in the book. He grabbed the house phone and began dialing. "We're getting a maid."

"For what?"

"We need someone to cook, silly," he said, shaking his head.

"Okay, but…you love to cook. And you said you wouldn't let anyone else set foot in this _fabulous _kitchen," Blaine replied, getting more confused by the second.

"I'm a man, Blaine. It's time to grow up. The only place my sexuality needs to be obvious is when I'm in the bedroom," Kurt said, winking and turning his back to him to make the phone call.

Frustrated, Blaine threw his arms up and walked back into the foyer, exiting out the front door. He took a seat on their front porch in a lawn chair, as they hadn't gone shopping for outdoor furniture yet. He buried his head in his hands and tried to make sense of the interaction he just had with his husband.

He sighed audibly and looked up when he heard someone else's that matched his own. He then heard muttering and looked to his right to see Sam on his own front porch, sitting on a swinging bench, gripping a beer and glaring at his front lawn.

"Sam?" Sam looked up from angrily mimicking his wife to himself and noticed Blaine hunched over across the way in a lawn chair.

"Oh. Blaine. Hey," he said, not even bothering to play the part of cheerful neighbor.

"Where's Mercedes?"

"She's at the Women's Club," Sam answered, spitting out the last part as if it were poison before taking a swig of beer.

As if on cue, Kurt walked out of their front door and patted Blaine on the head.

"I'm headed to the Women's Club. Those girls are begging me to come back so they have a tiny bit of testosterone to keep them sane," he said chuckling and heading over to his rental car.

Blaine just watched the stranger get in the vehicle and pull off with a sad look on his face.

Sam watched the exchange, his heart going out to the man in the bowtie. It was clear something happened to Kurt since he first went to the WC, and he'd hoped he wouldn't be affected because of his gender, but sadly, he was wrong. He reached down into the cooler beside him and grabbed another drink.

"You look like you could use a beer," he said, causing Blaine to lock eyes with him before settling into a sad, grateful smile. He got up and walked down the porch and across the lawn to meet Sam on his own porch.

"Thanks," Blaine mumbled, grabbing the beer from the blond's hand and sitting next to him.

"What's going on with Kurt?" Sam asked after a few moments of comfortable silence.

"He's acting so…weird. He's dressing like…well you saw him!" Sam released a dry laugh and nodded. "And he was like, preaching about how just because he's gay doesn't mean he has to be a sissy and has made this vow to stop cooking because of how it 'looks'."

"Mercedes changed suddenly too. It's like they're setting the women back 60 years and de-gayifying men." Blaine laughed a little and shook his head and Sam's word-usage and then furrowed his eyebrows.

"Wait, who's _they_?" Sam bit his lip, set his beer down and leaned closer so he could tell his neighbor what he thought.

"Well, I have this theory…"

"THE WOMEN HERE ARE INSANE! I SWEAR TO GOD I ALMOST CUT THAT CHICK'S ARM OFF!" Sam and Blaine jerked their attention to the source of the noise and their eyes landed on a furious Asian woman clad in a black Lolita style dress and red tights getting out of the driver's side of a pick-up truck.

An Asian man was exiting the passenger side, nodding and trying not to smile. They were in the circular drive of the house next to Kurt and Blaine's.

"I mean, can you believe the nerve, Mike! _That's not the car a lady should be driving, and what in God's name are you wearing_? I should have snatched her wig off!"

"Tina, you can't get this pissed off whenever we go to the grocery store, or I'm gonna have to start going alone," Mike said, shaking his head and gathering groceries out of the back of said truck.

"I'm just sick of being gawked at by the freaks in this town! It's not my fault they've never seen an independent woman! I'M BEING GAWKED AT _NOW_!" she said, noticing Sam and Blaine, who were now leaning over the railing of the porch and watching the exchange. They both turned red when they realized she was talking about them and stepped back. Their expressions turned fearful as soon as she started making her way over to them.

"I'm sorry, do I offend you? Are you not used to seeing a strong female?"

"Um…" Sam tried to answer, but wasn't sure how to.

Mike walked up and stood next to Tina with an apologetic smile.

"I'm sorry, she's just a little worked up," he said.

"Don't apologize on my behalf! I'm not sorry!" she huffed.

"How long have you two lived here?" The couple looked confused at Blaine's question, and so did Sam.

"Um…about two years now," Mike answered, raising an eyebrow.

"I'm sorry we were staring, we're just really curious as to why you aren't a clone," Blaine pointed out. Sam was impressed by his cut-to-the-chase approach and looked at the husband and wife standing before them.

Mike laughed, and Tina's expression softened once she realized they weren't staring at her for the same reasons people in Carrington usually did.

"I don't know…we keep to ourselves mostly. Maybe if you don't interact with clones, you don't become one yourself," the Asian man said, smiling.

"So you've never been to the Women's club?" Sam asked, looking at Tina.

"Are you insane?"

"When we moved here, I suggested she go there to make friends. She took one look at the women going inside the place and told me over her dead body."

Blaine laughed, and Sam's theory was suddenly making more sense. He thought of Mercedes and sighed. Tina noticed his change in behavior and spoke up again.

"Since neither of you have been here that long, why don't you come over for snacks. Mike makes awesome cheese and crackers."

"That I do," Mike said, grinning.

* * *

><p>"I think it's the Women's Club. It's evil." Everyone at the nook table looked at Sam. They were all getting along swimmingly and became friends right away, talking about everything from music to cartoons. The conversation topic turned serious when they returned to the subject of Mercedes and Kurt.<p>

"You think the Women's Club is evil?" Mike asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Yes! Okay, I told Mercedes to go so we could make fun of what the women said and did later…" Tina giggled. "And when she came back, she was the freaky anti-feminist robot wife she is now. Then Kurt went the day they moved in, and now he's like, the total opposite of himself!"

Mike, Blaine and Tina stared at Sam, who had gotten worked up and was flailing his arms as if it would help his theory get through to them. Finally, Mike said something.

"You know, he has a point. This never happened to Tina because she never went to the Women's Club. Mercedes and Kurt go once, and suddenly they're just like everyone else in this town. Something's off."

"You're right. It's the last thing Kurt did before he changed. What the hell are they doing to people there?" Blaine ran his fingers through his hair.

"So to be clear; there's some kind of conspiracy in this town to change people into early 20th century conservatives?" Tina asked.

"Yes," Sam, Mike and Blaine answered simultaneously. They were convinced. Tina stood and slammed her lace covered palms on the table.

"Then we have to do something about it!" The men sat back with wide eyes at her outburst.

"You want your loves back! We can't just take this laying down. The Mercedes and Kurt you two described pre-Women's Club sound awesome. We have to get them back!" Sam stood.

"She's right!"

"Yeah!" Blaine said, standing as well. Mike fist pumped and stood too.

"Let's do this!"

Suddenly they grew silent and the excitement died a little.

"Wait…how?" Sam asked. They all looked at Tina helplessly. She rolled her eyes.

"We _go_ to the Women's Club!"

* * *

><p>"Stop moving so much!"<p>

"You stop moving so much!"

"Okay, someone farted."

"Why does everyone have binoculars but me?"

"Ow!"

Mike, Tina, Blaine, and Sam were settled in the bushes outside of a window of the Women's Club mansion. Their view was currently being blocked by a redhead in a floral dress. She was now clapping. They'd given up on trying to see around her and just hoped she would move.

"Will you three shut up! Do you want to get caught and eaten alive off of silver platters?" Tina exclaimed, lowering her binoculars. The men stopped fussing looked at her, eyes wide in fear. "It could happen, we don't know what goes on in here," she added with a shrug.

"That's disgusting," Blaine said. Just then, the redhead moved to another spot in the room.

"Thank the Gods!" Tina said, picking her binoculars back up. Blaine and Mike used theirs as well and looked into the large window. Sam tried not to pout about not having his own pair again, but he really wanted some. He still looked, figuring he could see a lot with just his eyes, especially since he brought his glasses.

His eyes found Mercedes, sitting on a couch and smiling with her legs crossed. She was next to Kurt, who sat slumped over slightly with his elbows resting on his thighs and his hands dangling between his open legs. He then spotted Quinn, Puck's wife in a position similar to Mercedes. They clapped again. He moved his attention to a woman standing at the front of the room with her arm around a smaller, brunette, frightened looking woman.

"Hey, I recognize her from the store," Tina said. "She seemed normal. A little annoying, but normal."

"Not anymore," Sam muttered. The woman was saying something they couldn't make out as they continued to watch the scene unfold. Suddenly, they all jumped at what took place before them. One of the women had walked up to the front of the room and hit the brunette over the head with a frying pan. As she fell to the carpet, unconscious, the women clapped.


	4. Chapter 4

**Sorry for taking so long to update this. I won't even explain why it took so long, but I hope you enjoy it. This is the second to last chapter, as this was only supposed to be a short one. Sorry for any mistakes I missed!**

* * *

><p>"Oh my God! They just…she just…" Sam was having trouble getting his thoughts out.<p>

"Will you be quiet? They'll hear us!" Tina whispered harshly.

Sam slapped his hand over his mouth and looked at her apologetically.

"What the hell do we do?" Mike asked.

"I don't know just…hold on," she said, putting her fingers on her temple.

"Blaine?" Sam said once he realized his friend had passed out on the grass.

"Great," Tina muttered, leaning down and lightly slapping him. "Blaine? Wake up, buddy. Come on," she said, slapping him again. He finally came to and looked at the three standing above him.

"What happened?" he asked.

"Uh, they hit the new girl with a frying pan and Sam screamed, then you passed out," Mike said.

"I did not scream!" Sam yelled indignantly.

"Sam! Keep your voice down," Tina whispered.

"He screamed," Mike said, earning a glare from the blond before helping Blaine back to his feet.

"We need to get in there," Tina said, walking around the house.

The boys all looked at each other with wide eyes before following her to the back door. She tried the handle and discovered it was unlocked, waving them in. They followed her in and tried to pretend they weren't afraid as the Asian woman marched ahead of them fearlessly following the voices they heard.

"Now hold still…" they heard a voice say.

Tina looked at them and nodded in the direction it came from.

"We can't just walk in there," Mike whispered with wide eyes.

"What choice do we have?" she whispered back.

Suddenly feeling brave, Sam walked ahead of them and peered through the door, discovering it led to a basement. He could barely see what was going on and could only make up bright blue lights and the high heeled feet of some women.

"Whatever they've been doing, they're doing it down there," he said, looking at them. "Tina's right, we have to go down there."

"Are you crazy?" Blaine asked.

"Weren't you the one freaking out a minute ago?" Mike added.

"Yes, okay, I had a minor weak moment. But now we need to take this by the horns. We can take them!" he said. "Look, I just want my girl back." He looked at them with pleading eyes and when his gaze met Blaine's he saw the same sad want.

"He's right," Blaine said. "We have to do something. It's now or never."

Sam nodded and began tiptoeing down the stairs with the rest behind him. When he reached the bottom of the steps, his eyes bulged at the sight before him. The women stood around the previously unconscious brunette as she stood in front of a glass sheet the same height as her with her photo on it.

Suddenly there was a loud crashing noise and everyone looked their way. Sam panicked and looked around to see Mike was standing by the shattered mess of one of the sheets.

"Mike!" he said. His friend held his hands up looking terrified. He'd leaned back too far and knocked it over.

"What are you doing here?" a blonde yelled.

"Sam?" He looked up to see Mercedes walking toward him.

"Cedes?"

"What's going on?" she asked, taking his hand and looking at everyone. He gasped and touched her face as Mike, Blaine and Tina looked on with shocked expressions.

"Are you…?" He didn't know how to ask the question, but she seemed…normal again. Finally in order to tell, he pulled her close and pressed his lips to hers as the rest of the wives watched, confused. She kissed back and tangled her fingers in his hair, her tongue entering his mouth and dancing with his. He pulled away and spun her around, making her laugh.

"What are you doing?" she asked. Then she looked at their audience. "Who are these people?"

"I'll answer that…soon," he said before turning to his friends. "We need to break all of these."

The blonde woman twitched and advanced towards them, followed by the other wives.

"NOW!" Sam yelled. Mike knocked over another, and one of the women stopped walking, holding her head. Tina and Blaine ran around, kicking over all the glass stands in their way. Sam did the same, and Mercedes, though still unaware of what was happening did so as well. More women stopped and held their heads, and finally the only one left was the seething blonde leading the pack. She no longer had back up and was not quick enough to stop them alone in her high heels.

"Do you have any idea what you've done?" she asked them, trying to keep an even tone. All glass in the room was shattered, and Kurt was currently wrapped up in his husband, confused, but enjoying the affection.

"I thought I lost you," Blaine said into his neck. Kurt smiled.

"I wish I knew what you were going on about, or why I'm in this disgusting ensemble, but you should know that I'd never leave you."

"Lots of stuff about brainwash…you cooked…" Sam was still having trouble explaining the situation to his wife. Suddenly there was yelling and the clicking of heels and he turned his head to see the women gathered around the blonde, who seemed unchanged, even though everything around them was destroyed.

Sam looked over at Kurt, Blaine, Tina and Mike and nodded to the stairs, wordlessly suggesting they leave. They nodded and ran to the stairs.

"It's weird, I don't remember anything. Just a baseball bat," Mercedes told him as they walked into their house. He wasn't sure what would happen in the morning, and he didn't really care. He just had her back.

"They hit you too?" he asked, pulling her forward and searching for a bump on her head. She pulled away and looked at him.

"I'm fine," she told him. "So what else did I do?"

"You didn't watch tv and you stopped me from having sex with you anywhere but the bedroom. Not even in the shower," he said, adding onto the list of weird behaviors he told her about. Her eyes widened and she shook her head.

"Wow. And I didn't let you get your Trix."

"That was the worst," he joked. She smiled up at him.

"Well I guess I have a few things to make up to you."


End file.
